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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25267732">Coordinates</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexgempisces/pseuds/bexgempisces'>bexgempisces</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Graphic self harm depictions, I love writing Skimmons tho so please enjoy, I swear I write other stuff but I was in a weird mood, I’m sorry but I had to break them up, Past Fitzsimmons, Scar fic, Scars, early morning, fluffy in places, lowkey sad, skimmons - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:28:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,537</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25267732</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexgempisces/pseuds/bexgempisces</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy’s body was like a map, Jemma realised in the early hours of the morning. </p><p>-A Skimmons AU, set after season 5 but Fitz didn’t die, they just got divorced and season 6 doesn’t exist.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jemma Simmons/Skye | Daisy Johnson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>147</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Coordinates</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Okay, hi again! So I really wanted to write a Skimmons fic because I really love the idea of them together. I tried my best to deal with the idea of Fitzsimmons so I decided not to kill him and ignore his death in 5x22, in this story he and Jemma got divorced and Daisy and her got together. </p><p>WARNINGS: I got kinda graphic with the descriptions of Daisy’s self harm. It’s in the middle so you can skip it if you want to. </p><p>This mentions a lot of the stuff established in my first fic, We’ll Get Through This, Together, such as Daisy’s tattoo and her panic attacks. </p><p>I promise I write stuff other than trauma and sad Daisy Johnson fics but we don’t get it in canon and I love writing about her dealing with it! </p><p>This is from Jemmas pov and it’s probably OOC because i can’t seem to write in character lmao. </p><p>Anyway, this was long winded but I hope you enjoy! Please tell me what you think in the comments! X</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Daisy’s body was like a map, Jemma realised in the early hours of the morning. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’d been lying awake for ages, taking comfort in the dull roar of the sea above them and Daisy’s breathing. She liked how it was never quiet, there was always noise from somewhere. It helped when she woke up and thought she was deaf from Kasius. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She sat cross-legged in the bed, watching Daisy breathe for a while, before she’d started following the plot points Daisy’s scars made. It was a map, but it lead to nowhere other than the history of Daisy herself. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She didn’t often see this side of Daisy, soft and calm, the weak light from the simulated sunrise of Daisy’s laptop casting a soft glow over the two of them. It was strange, she was so used to seeing Daisy as strong and tough, but here, she looked almost...normal. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Well, as normal as an Inhuman hacker-turned SHIELD agent could look. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jemma realised that she’d never known Daisy’s face without scars. Even when she was Skye and they barely knew each other on the Bus, she had marks marring her skin. There was less then, way less, but there were still there. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She started her journey at the small scar above Daisy’s left eyebrow. It was years old, barely visible in the weak light. She remembered Skye telling her about it one night on the Bus, early in their friendship. A beer bottle flung at her head in a bar when she was 16 apparently, wrong place, wrong time. At the time, Jemma had questioned why Skye was even in a bar at 16 but Skye had deflected and asked Fitz about his latest project. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She never did learn why Skye had been in the bar. Skye was shot not long after and then HYDRA emerged and their entire world was tipped on its axis. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She followed years old white marks down Daisy’s face, committing them to her memory. Some were still healing, remnants of her latest mission. The black eye was new too. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her eyes tracked down Daisy’s face to her neck. There was only one here. And god, it hurt to look at that one. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It still wasn’t fully healed, still tinged pink in the stages of pre-scarring. Someday it wouldn’t be anymore than another raised, white bump like all the others. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But it was an ugly scar. Deep and raw and laced with anger and pain. Daisy still couldn’t look at it, keeping her hair in middle and side partings and refraining from turning her head too far to the left in the mirror. She never really let anyone near it either, watchdogs and villains they went against that got too close to her neck were quaked within an inch of their lives, the doctors working in the med bays weren’t allowed near it when checking her over after missions, the team couldn’t even touch it when hugging the girl without her flinching violently. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Only Jemma was allowed to touch it now and it took them months to get to that point. When it happened, Daisy refused to let anyone but May stitch her up, and then she’d refused to let anyone touch the bandages to change them. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They never really talked about it nowadays. They never really talked about that entire period of time before they saved the world, preferring to leave the cracked earth and splinters in the team in the scars they carried. The team was more or less back to normal. They were missing pieces and that left holes but they were slowly patching themselves back up. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was hard at first, when Fitz left. She’d begged him to stay, to try again with their marriage, they’d leave together if he wanted to go so badly. But he knew she didn’t really want to go and he also knew that their hearts didn’t in time together anymore. He’d kissed on the head and told her to go to her. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">To Daisy. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They took it slow, not as slow as Jemma and Fitz had, refusing to admit their feelings for each other. More taking the time to let themselves grieve for what they’d lost and come back to each other. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But once they were truly together, their love was red hot and scorching. Daisy’s kisses were like pure ecstasy and Jemma always craved more. Her body was like a magnet always pulling Jemma closer. It was a different love than Jemma had with Fitz, his was gentle and soft, Daisy’s was electricity and flames. She didn’t prefer one over the other, she just relished in having had both in her lifetime. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She snapped back to reality when she realised her hand was nearly brushing against the scar. Whilst she was the only one who could touch it without Daisy making the walls shake, she always asked for permission first. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was the least she could do, considering how she got it in the first place. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Instead of dwelling on the regrets she had about back then, she continued to follow the map. In her sports bra and sleep shorts, most of Daisy’s body was on show. In the pale artificial sunlight, she could see all the marks and blemishes normally hidden by the light of day. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ignoring the handprint shaped bruises from Daisy’s latest attacker on a mission,(who probably would never have full use of his hands again if he got that close to Daisy’s neck)she followed Daisy’s clavicle to a scar on her shoulder. A knife wound from Ivanov before AIDA turned him into the Terminator or whatever she’d done. She remembered stitching it up on the plane home after checking on Mace, before the Framework and LMD nightmare. It was no more than a white notch now, a standout in Daisy’s skin. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She continued her descent down Daisy’s arms, letting her fingers lightly trace the muscles in Daisy’s forearms, noting that the girls face scrunched before settling back into sleep. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Good, Jemma thought, Daisy dangerously needed the sleep. She’d come in after a four day undercover mission and immediately crashed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her fingers stilled when she reached an old bullet scar on Daisy’s left arm. It was when May had to shoot her to save Mack, when Daisy had been brainwashed by Hive. Anger soared through her, not at May or Daisy, but at Hive who’d broken Daisy in a way Jemma had never seen before. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When she came back from Hive, she was deathly pale and close to collapsing. Hive had nearly killed her with his blood drives and Daisy was just so...empty. She’d said it was like he’d scraped her out of her own skull. He’d made her into his soldier, his weapon and made her hurt the only family she had left after her moms death and fathers memory wipe. Jemma knew Daisy still struggled with the guilt and the blame, especially after Lincoln and Coulson’s deaths. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She knew Daisy hated this scar. It wasn’t as bad as the inhibitor scar, but Daisy still hated looking at it. It reminded her too much of the pain she’d caused and went through, Daisy had said when Jemma asked about it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She moved on from the bullet scar and pushed down her anger. Hive was already dead and Fitz was in Scotland, in therapy last she’d heard. It was something she always had to remind Daisy of, when she woke up from a nightmare and into a panic attack, seeing the Doctor or hearing Hive. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Moving on from it, she made her way down Daisy’s forearm to another knife wound, again from Ivanov. She wondered how many Daisy had, how many plot points mapped Daisy’s body in a strange geographical way before realising she didn’t have to wonder. She could count them herself and find all the hidden paths of the map. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She moved her fingers away from Daisy’s arm to just below the band of her sports bra. There was only the occasional slash mark on Daisy’s right arm from battling Watchdogs and it was currently in bandages after a nasty encounter with a flamethrower on her mission. She traced the newly formed purple bruises on Daisy’s ribs, stopping to trace the tattoo on the left side. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If Daisy’s body was a map, then this was the big red X marking the final destination. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lincoln’s tattoo. It was a simple one, Zeus’s constellation, just the black dots and the lines connecting them. She felt like she was treading in uncertain waters with the tattoo and she let her fingers just follow to black lines. The story behind the tattoo was beautiful and fascinating in itself; the shop in Fort Payne, Charlie, the Inhuman kid Daisy was settling there, the book of constellations Daisy had found it in. She still had the book, well read and falling apart a little these days. It lived next to the photo album from May and a Quake action figure Mack had given to Daisy for her birthday last year. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The story was beautiful but the reason behind it wasn’t. Jemma knew Daisy was still grieving Lincoln, still blamed herself a little for his death believing if should have been her. All Jemma could do was be there for her. Daisy did the same for her, when the divorce papers came in and Fitz dropped nearly all contact with the team, only sending in designs for new Icers or some other gadget. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She moved on from the black ink, to the two circular scars encased in white frames below. The shots from Quinn and the surgical scars to try and fix the irreparable damage before they’d gotten the GH formula. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was strange looking at them now. They almost seemed like nothing, another mark on Daisy’s skin like the others, but they’d nearly killed her. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She remembered when Skye had woken up for the first time, pained and sore. She said it felt like her body was being set on fire every time she breathed. Back then, she couldn’t look at the wounds, much like she couldn’t today with the one on her neck. The first time she’d seen her stitches she’d thrown up. Jemma checked on them when she was asleep after that. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Back then, the scars were a reminder of what they’d nearly lost. Now, they were a reminder of what they had. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She moved her fingers, still feather light against the girl, to the left side of Daisy’s body, the long line of cuts a contrast to her olive skin. The first time she’d seen them, she’d immediately teared up and apologised for not seeing Daisy’s hurt. Daisy had grabbed her hands and settled them against the cuts and explained that she only did it when she was too set in a panic attack and had to bring herself out. Easier than inverting her powers inward and painful enough to quiet the dangerous whispering of Hive Daisy sometimes thought she could hear. She was working on it though.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She let her hand fall away from the cuts and move to Daisy right thigh. These scars were the darkest part of the map. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> A week after May and Daisy had buried Coulson in Tahiti, Jemma had found Daisy in her bunk. Well she’d found Fitz first, who’d looked devastated and guilty before pointing to Daisy’s bunk and whispering: </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I did that.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Confused and concerned, she’d sent him to Mack to talk out his feelings and headed into Daisy’s bunk, noting the quakes that radiated from the room, making the doorknob shake in its casing. Jemma opened the door and her stomach turned at the sight. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Blood was </span> <span class="s2">everywhere</span> <span class="s1">, the sheets turned a violent crimson. Rushing over and fearing the worst, she’d found Daisy curled into a small ball, hands pressed to her ears and whispering. It was her panic attack mantra, Jemma realised. She could see where the blood was coming from up close. Daisy’s right thigh was like a chainsaw massacre, deep cuts crisscrossing the olive skin and Jemma felt helpless. She teared up at the sight, but knew she had to let Daisy ride this out and wait until Daisy stopped repeating her mantra. She’d learned about Daisy’s panic attacks in the Framework, after Ward dropped them off at Daisy’s apartment. One minute Daisy was fine and then she was collapsing in on her self and saying, “it’s him, it’s him” over and over again. Hive, Jemma realised. It was Daisy’s worst nightmare come to life. Ward was bad enough before he was an alien parasite. </span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Daisy finally breathed and her quakes quelled as Jemma sat on the blood soaked sheets and gathered Daisy into her arms. They sat like that for hours until Jemma convinced Daisy to let her stitch up her leg. May came in not long after and the three women talked for hours. Daisy agreed to go to therapy and all sharp objects were removed from the room for a while. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The cuts had barely healed, still a deep angry red. They crossed each other like warring armies, a battle in the middle for dominance over Daisy’s flesh and Jemma still found it hard to look at them. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The episode truly opened her eyes to Daisy’s pain and anguish and after therapy and long nights holding each other, the two girls understood each other in ways that no one else could comprehend. It wasn’t like the psychic connection she’d had with Fitz, this was a bond forged in blood and darkness and overwhelming love. It was what drove them together. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Daisy had actually gone back to an Inhuman therapist named Daphne for help. She’d relocated her to a safe house in Missouri with Bobbi and Hunter of all people for protection, so an impromptu reunion was held whilst Daisy had her first of many, many sessions. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">These scars were another reminder of what they’d nearly lost. But the keyword there was nearly, as Jemma let her fingers touch the cuts, knowing that Daisy was still here. They were both still here. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A rough voice woke her from her thoughts and her hand laid to rest on Daisy’s thigh. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Whatcha doing, Gemini?” Daisy asked, opening her eyes a fraction and settling on Jemma. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jemma smiled the pet name, something they did often, she brought herself up to face Daisy. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Following the map.” She answered simply. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What map?” Daisy questioned, eyebrow quirking in interest. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your map. The map on you. Your scars...they’re like plot points or coordinates. It’s fascinating.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fascinating, huh?” Daisy smirked,”You’re not too bad yourself, Simmons.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jemma laughed at that, tilting her head back. Daisy took advantage of the open space and peppered her neck with light kisses. Jemma brought her head back down and caught Daisy’s mouth in her own, tasting the coconut chapstick Daisy put on before bed every night, even when she was crashing, she always found time to put on Jemma’s favourite flavour chapstick. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Although you don’t have to explain if you were just checking me out.” Daisy said, in between kisses. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wasn’t! I find your scars so interesting sometimes.” Jemma promised. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Doubt and shame passed over Daisy’s face and Jemma felt the light atmosphere dim a little. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But they’re ugly, Jem. I don’t know how you can look at them without wanting to hurl like I do.” Daisy said. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, no. They’re not Dais. No part of you is ugly. Not the scars or your muscles or the one mole on your nose you hate so much. Every part of you is beautiful and I love you, okay?” It was strange sometimes, Daisy’s body issues. You’d think a super hero would love their body but Daisy seemed to hate hers. Probably years in the system and on the streets, Jemma reasoned, never being validated probably took its toll. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Daisy looked at her with such love and admiration in her eyes Jemma thought she might cry. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love you too Jems. So fucking much. Thank you. You can go back to following this supposed map if you want to. Since you’re so enamoured with my body.” Daisy teasing tone was back but Jemma was just happy she’d gotten her out of the self-hate spiral. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Jemma moved back the bed and kissed the cuts on Daisy’s thigh. Daisy propped her head and watched her, grimacing at the sight of her mangled flesh. She regretted it now, but in that state of panic and despair and pure </span> <span class="s2">fear </span> <span class="s1">when she’d came out of her first panic attack and seen the the Doctor standing there. She’d nearly quaked him before she realised it was her Fitz and then another panic attack started because she couldn’t even tell the difference now. She hadn’t meant to go so deep with the cuts but she just couldn’t seem to </span> <span class="s2">wake up.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Now, there was just scars and Jemma was kissing those scars so she just enjoyed the attention. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But looking at Jemma something else crossed her mind. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jemma could almost sense the question coming but she braved herself anyway. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you happy, Jem? Like with me?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was something Daisy asked often. No matter how many times Jemma reassured her, Daisy always asked. Jemma put it down to a fear of rejection and trust issues, built from her unstable childhood and the nature of their jobs. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But she also knew it was because Daisy still felt guilty about Fitz. It was understandable, she was a bridesmaid at their wedding and she’d fought and battled endlessly for them to be together. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But they just weren’t to be. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was far too much anger and pain and history and issues for the two to last. It took too much out of them to be together, they’d fight and scream and blame each other till they were blue in the face and it just wasn’t working. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The fact that she’d fallen in love with Daisy probably hadn’t helped either.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">She’d begged him to stay at first because it was what was right, they were </span> <span class="s2">Fitzsimmons</span> <span class="s1">. Supposed to be together to the end like everyone predicted. </span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But predictions were often wrong and in all honesty, Fitz leaving was the best thing he could have done. It let them both be happy. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And so, she just took Daisy’s hands in her own and kissed them gently. She sat up to face Daisy, staring right into her chocolate eyes that were full of love and fear. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, Daisy. I’m more than happy, I’m ecstatic and content and so in love with you it’s almost scary. Me and Fitz,” she took a breath,”We couldn’t last. We tried, honestly we did, but you remember the screaming matches and the days of not talking after. We loved each other but sometimes that’s not enough. What I have with you, it’s more than that. It’s everything and I’m not letting you go because of this,” she let her hand fall on the cuts again,”or anything else. We deserve that Daisy, we both deserve happiness. And that’s what we have.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Daisy was crying by this point, but she smiled widely and pulled Jemma close to her. Their lips interlocked like puzzle pieces and suddenly, Daisy’s hands were roaming her body. She was flipped over to be under Daisy and Daisy attacked her neck with a ferocity that sent tiny shocks through her body. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">She moaned as Daisy hit </span> <span class="s2">that </span> <span class="s1">spot on her pulse point that Daisy always seemed to find. </span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You seem to have woken up then.” She sighed as Daisy let her teeth drag gently over her neck before kissing the mark softly to take away the sting. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah well the love of my life decided to go travelling across my body this morning so I’m repaying the favour.” Daisy mumbled against her skin. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Daisy straddled her and tugged on Jemma’s shirt, bringing it up over her head. She was left in her bra and shorts as Daisy took in her body from above. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She felt Daisy’s fingers run down her stomach and end at her hips. The feeling of Daisy’s warm fingertips sent shockwaves down her spine and her back arched a little. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Daisy’s hand came back up to Jemma’s shoulders. She traced patterns between Jemma’s freckles like a dot to dot puzzle. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You, Jemma Simmons, have the night sky on your skin.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was cheesy that Jemma snorted and the two girls burst into peals of laughter. The sound filled the small room and Jemma felt lighter than she had in weeks. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wiping the tears from her eyes, Daisy rolled off Jemma to lay beside her. The two girls faced each other and Daisy brought her hand up to Jemma’s face to trace the scars from Maveth. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, look we match.” She said when she reached the scar above Jemma’s left eyebrow. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There are nicer things to have in common.” Jemma replied. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Daisy smiled sadly before leaning over to kiss Jemma again. It was soft and sweet and perfect and in that moment, Jemma felt complete. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They were still dealing with their pain, they had scars that would never fade and wounds that were still healing. But here and now, they had each other and that was enough. </span>
</p>
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